


Morloch the Mighty

by Healy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Comedy, Demons, Ficlet, Gen, High Fantasy, Purple Prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 04:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16401524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Healy/pseuds/Healy
Summary: Morloch has a hell of a time getting back to his home





	Morloch the Mighty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alunsina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alunsina/gifts).



Morloch sat at the peak of Mt. Seslock, grimly looking down at the caldera of that sinister volcano. Magma boiled and bubbled below him. “So,” he reflected grimly, “it has come to this.” He stood up, raising himself tall, and with a mighty leap, threw himself down that burning opening.

Nearly as quickly as he tossed himself down, the volcano erupted, tossing Morloch back onto the mountaintop, badly singed and with a few broken horns. “Ow!” he screamed. “Goddamit!” He struggled valiantly not to cry. Alas, it was a battle too strong a match for him. Tears streamed down from his face, much like lava streamed down from the volcano, although, of course, the tears ran not as hot.

“I’m never going home, am I?” Morloch pondered aloud.

* * *

“So, I know just what a big, scary wizard like you wants to do,” Morloch expounded, his words coming out at an astounding speed. “You want to banish ol’ Morly back to the demonic realms from whence I came. Well, from whence he came, I guess. Grammar… grammar isn’t really my strong suit.”

“Um,” declared the might Arch-Wizard Ozymandias, who was currently detained by Morloch’s mighty tail.

“Y’see, back in Devil School, they never taught ol’ Morly nothing,” Morloch continued onward, staying on the tangent. “Ol’ Morly was just too dumb to learn anything, I guess they figured. All the other implings in school used to push me around for it, say I was stupider than a senile goat. Well, I may not be smart, but at least I got dignity!” Morloch thrashed his tail about the Arch-Wizards laboratory, which was rather hard on the Arch-Wizard himself.

“Could we get back to the matter at hand, please?” Ozymandias humbly pleaded.

“Oh! Right.” Morloch coughed a few times, spewing smoke across the laboratory, then continued. “Anyway, the point is, getting rid of a big, bad demon like me will bring you no small amount of acclaim among your fellow mortals, I’ll bet. And, I guess it could help you nail some babes? I guess? So, whaddya say? You in for it?”

Ozymandias looked upon Morloch with blank, uncomprehending orbs. “Is this some kind of kink thing,” he uttered, more a pontification than an inquiry.

“What?! No, no, it’s—”

“Because if it is, I’m sorry, man, but you’ll have more luck with Fungeon Dungeon next door.” With that utterance, Ozymandias deftly maneuvered out of the demon’s grip and flipped a switch on the wall, turning the entire northern wall of the lab into a stone golem. The golem seized Morloch between its mighty fists and tossed him into the dark, black night, nevermore to be seen again in Ozymandias’s haunts.

“Yeah, well, same back to you, pal!” Morloch howled towards the wizard’s keep as he hurtled through the air.

* * *

“So I’m thinking of joining an adventuring party,” Morloch announced to Aaron the Gray, slayer of wights, friend to the crow, former mayor of Rockinshire, and current barkeep for The Dog and Pony Inn.

“Sounds good,” Aaron replied, after a moment’s consideration. “I mean, everybody needs a hobby, I guess.”

“Yep, I figure after we loot a bunch of tombs and ruins, I can save up enough money to hire a wizard to banish me back home!” Morloch explained, pounding on the bar for emphasis as he went. The force of his blows knocked a few empty glasses off the counter, which Aaron barely managed to catch.

“Please don’t break anything,” Aaron chided. “So! You got a party already set-up?”

“Actually, that’s why I’m here!” Morloch answered. “I hear adventurers gather in downbeat taverns like this one all the time! You see any?”

“Ah, well,” Aaron began, casting his eyes about the tavern. “I think that guy in the corner there looks promising. You know, the one with the cloak and the smoke.”

Morloch turned and saw a strange, adumbral figure surrounded by an eldritch fog sitting along at one of the inn’s tables. The figure’s eyes flashed an unearthly green as they caught Morloch’s glance.

Morloch lifted himself off his seat (with great effort, for the demon had been drinking heavily) and acknowledged Aaron’s advice with a jaunty salute. “Thanks for the tip, man!” He approached the figure’s table but before he could utter a word, the figure spoke.

“Evening, hellspawn.” The figure’s eyes flashed once more. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with the barman.”

“So, you know I’m looking for some partners, right?”

“Correct.” With a sudden gust of wind, the figure’s cloak burst into flame, revealing a lithe, woman’s body covered in green scales. Eyes of emerald stared back at Morloch. “My name is Morgana Elfiin. I was once a human sorceress, until one day one of my potions backfired and transformed me into a wyrmling. I would like to venture into the Everdark Forests to find a cure, and I thought you might be the man—or demon—to help me. Are you in?”

“Am I?” shouted Morloch. “I’ve wandered the Everdark ever since I was banished from hell one thousand years ago! The monsters there ain’t no match for me!”

Morgana nodded. “Good. Then let’s go.” And thus began a new stage in the life of Morloch the demon.


End file.
